


Seven Kinds of Crazy

by meanoldauthor



Series: Mean Old Lady [14]
Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Game(s), Requited Love, Wrestling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 14:47:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11315628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meanoldauthor/pseuds/meanoldauthor
Summary: There are times you can thank someone, but there are times you have to show someone what they mean to you.





	Seven Kinds of Crazy

**Author's Note:**

> Directly on the heels on 'If you Die'  
> Y'all came here for porn, right? right.

“…and then…I’m gonna…” Adal puffed as she walked, pulling Ulysses’ arm more firmly across her shoulders. “Gonna…Fuck, man, wake up. Open your eyes, come on.” His face was an ugly gray color, but he tried to take his weight again. “Come on. Almost there.” She looked back. The marked men were still wary of the pair of them traveling together, but there were sounds, footsteps and rustlings following them on the path over the wreckage of the Cave.

The door to the silo opened as she approached, and he grunted as she half-lifted him over the threshold. “Come on,” she whispered, trying to move faster. “Goddamn it, if you die on me now I’ll never forgive you.”

He murmured something, faint and weak. She looked over, and in the dimness of the Temple, his eyes were glazed and bloodshot. She leaned closer, feeling his lips brush her ear. “Wouldn’t want…disappointed…”

“If you’re up to being sarcastic,” she said, shuffling them sideways through a doorway, “you don’t need an auto-doc.”

She had to adjust her grip again in the hall, making him grunt. “Not…”

His legs buckled, and she could only slow his fall. “No. No, no, no. Please. Please don’t—I can _see_ the fucking thing from here…”

He was out, barely even breathing. “Fuck, fuck fuck fucking…” Adal grabbed him by the shoulders of his duster, dragging him into the next room. She winced as he slid over the rubble on the floor, reaching back to slap the auto-doc’s controls. There was a _clunk_ as it opened, and she heard an answering clank and scrape of the main door’s mechanism.

“Fuck fuck—” She dragged him into the device, stepping over him and trying to lift his legs in past the door. His eyes opened slightly as she did, trying to stand. “I’m gonna be pissed if this doesn’t work, my man,” she said, kissing him on the mouth as she stepped out. She jabbed at the doc’s controls, telling it to run everything. She watched the screen, the machine’s sensors whirring as it went to work. A line appeared on the screen, a diagnosis. Another line and another, and she held her hand to her mouth. Collapsed lung, fractured skull, blood loss, _internal_ bleeding, and more, more—he shouldn’t have walked away from that. He shouldn’t have survived a goddamn _hour._

Scuffing footsteps drew closer to her, and she crept around the far side of the machine. She pressed her back to it, hand on the stock of her rifle, trying to breathe slowly as she weighed options. She wasn’t dressed for a fight, expecting to go no further than the camp on the canyon ledge—thin shirt and jeans under the duster, and only a handful of ammo, and exhausted from carrying him across the wreckage. If there was just one of the ghouls, she could manage. But three was normal for them, or more…

Adal cringed at the sound of a drill, or a saw, inside the auto-doc, something shrill and evil reverberating through the metal. The marked man growled at it, thumping a fist on the door. Shit. He wouldn’t be able to pop it open from outside, could he? Not partway through a procedure?

She heard Ulysses grunt, accompanied by a mechanical sound. She gritted her teeth and got a better grip on her gun. Screw waiting, not if that’s what she had to listen to.

She stepped out, and marked man’s eyes just started to widen as she pulled the trigger. There was a startled sound from the main hall as the ghoul fell, skull reduced to a spatter on the wall. Another of them charged through the door, sidestepping crisply as she fired. He bulled in close as she tried to cycle the gun, her boots catching on something. She toppled back, wedging her rifle against the marked man’s throat. He clawed at her, and she heaved, throwing him aside. They grappled over the brush gun, and in the scuffle, she glanced down. Adal leaned back hard, only to let go, sending the ghoul rolling away, and snatched up the super sledge the first one had dropped.

Kneeling, her first blow was weak, but she lunged up, caving in his chest with the second. Something small and dark clattered into the room, and she stared blankly a moment before trying to kick it back. It arced through the air as it exploded, putting stars in her eyes, and setting her ears ringing. “Fuck f—” Adal tried to back into cover, swinging blindly. One blow connected, glancing, and the backswing sent a meaty _thud_ through her arms. She could make out shapes rushing her, heard a shotgun roar. Her vision started to clear, and another leveled an incinerator at her. She knocked it aside, feeling her back hit the elevator doors.

A quick rush, breaking the legs of one and reducing his head to pulp when he fell, but the others had crowded in close. It fouled her next swing, hammer snagging on crude armor, but packed so tight they didn’t dare open fire. The pilot light of the incinerator was all she could see, inches away, and she was nearly jerked off her feet, wrestling to keep hold of the sledge.

There was a metallic, hollow sound from behind the pack. Adal grinned. “Nice knowin’ you, bastards.”

The one fighting for the hammer turned, shouting something garbled. She flinched at the spray of gore from him, the sharp crack of her brush gun making the rest of them jump. She whipped the sledge down on the flamer, crumpling it like a tin can. The ghoul holding it snarled, and the next blow snapped its neck. The rest were in motion, and she caught a glimpse of Ulysses through the crush, something fierce in him as he brought the rifle up again. She slammed a fist against the elevator controls before wading into the panic.

The gun ran dry fast, and he simply tore another from the hands of a marked man. One of them nearly gutted her, distracted by watching him, and she pushed past the burn in her arms to keep fighting. The ghouls scattered as she swung, deflecting a blow from a sledgehammer and punishing the one wielding it. Ulysses turned at the motion, spotting her, his face shifting from cold fury to something that made her heart pound harder, her breath catch. 

There was a clunk from behind her, the elevator opening. “Come on!” She could hear more of them outside, growling voices and weapons being readied. He backed away from the door, wary, not turning until he was level with her. Adal grinned at him. “You think—”

A gunshot rang out, and marked men flooded the chamber as they retreated. One charged ahead with a scrap-metal blade, fixed on Ulysses’ back. She shouted, lunging to block the blow. He fired once past her, dragging her back into the elevator. They ducked to the sides as the doors closed, dodging a hail of gunfire. It sealed with a clank, and she felt her stomach flip as they began to descend.

Silence, but for their breathing.

Adal slumped against the wall, resting the super sledge on the floor. Ulysses leaned on the elevator console, and she gave him a crooked smile, enjoying the look of him shirtless under his duster, whole and healthy. Relief sent a heady rush through her. “Hey.” He looked over, still panting. “How about you’n I find somewhere _mmf_ —”

He nearly slammed her against the wall, holding her arms and crushing his mouth to hers. She fought on reflex, pushing back, but he pressed himself against her harder, hands slipping under her jacket.

She could feel the dirt and blood and sweat on him as she ran her hands over his neck and chest, could feel the grime on her own skin. She ached with fatigue. She wanted to rest, catch her breath, but he had leaned away and was dragging at her belt, growling under his breath as he fumbled with the buckle and _holy hell yes_ he wanted to throw her down and take her hard, then and there riding out the rush of the fight—

“Oh, come on,” she groaned, pushing him away and dealing with the belt herself, kicking off her boots. He stepped back, watching her and breathing hard, but nothing more. She glared as he just stood there. “What? Don’t you dare tell me,” she said, “I carried you across half the Divide so you could have _second thoughts_.”

Ulysses looked away, pulling at the scraps of tape on him, letting his duster fall. “Help with these,” he said.

Adal got an end of it free, leaving the rest to him. He turned away as he tore the rest of the tape loose, hissing between his teeth. Picking up the coat, she grinned. When he turned back, she finished wriggling one arm free, dropping her breast wrap on the ground. The duster was far too large for her, and she pulled it tight around herself, the fabric worn surprisingly soft against her bare skin. “What do you—”

He stopped short as the elevator halted, doors opening. She slipped a hand back under, popping the button on her jeans and drawing the zipper down slowly, loudly. His expression was slightly glazed, taking her in, but pleased. She started working her pants down, inch by inch. “Should see your face.”

She wanted him to tear them off her, force her down, brutal and rough and hard before her heart stopped pounding. Instead, he pulled her in tight, silencing her with a long, slow kiss. Frustrated, she pressed her hips into him, digging her nails into his back. He didn’t react, and Adal forced her tongue between his lips. He jerked away, then drew in again with a curious _hm._ More gently, she tried again, working a hand between them and tugging at his belt.

Ulysses pulled it away, and she tried again as soon as he let go. “Damn it.” She found a scar on his chest, and dragged her teeth over it. “Here. _Now.”_

“Always rushing,” he murmured, lips brushing the side of her neck. He caught her hand again and pressed her back, trapping it against the wall. “Slowly.”

“In case you didn’t know,” she said, stroking her other hand across his waist, “it has been—” She growled as he took her wrist, and continued with clenched teeth, “A _very_ long time, and if you don’t—” He pinned her arms over her head, making the duster fall open. She tried to keep talking, but surrendered to another lingering kiss. “Stop doing that,” she said when he came up for air, glad he was holding her.

“Too long,” he said, voice hungry. Holding her wrists with one hand, he slid the other across her stomach, just at the edge of exposed skin, gliding up her side. “Savor this.”

It took a moment for her to find her voice. “Oh no,” she said, trying to slow her breathing. “You didn’t forget _how,_ did you?”

He met her grin with an indignant look, and she yelped as her feet left the ground. “Unfair,” she said, draped over his shoulder. Adal ran her hands down his back, feeling him shiver. “Where are we going?” she asked, tracing what looked like a series of claw marks on his side.

“Quarters,” Ulysses said. She caught a glimpse of the Temple silo, before hauling open a door to the side. The corridor was dimly lit, but clean, silent. “Secured it before you came.”

“Mm.” He was working a hand up the back of her leg, and she lost interest in much else. They entered a single room, and he put his hands on her waist. Adal shifted, letting him slide her down onto his lap, straddling him as he sat on the bed. “This works better without pants on,” she said.

“Patience.” He kissed the hollow of her throat, and she closed her eyes, resting her arms on his shoulders. She felt him brush at the scar that started below it, trailing down between her breasts. Adal waited for him to cup and feel them, and sighed as he pushed upwards, along her chest and shoulders.

“Fuck,” she said, trying to pull a hand back down. “The hell do you want? For me to beg?”

There was something wicked in his voice as he murmured, “ _Would_ you?” His hands were on her neck, her back, sliding the duster down and opening it wider. They were hard with callus, rough on her skin but touching so lightly she shivered. She arched into him, hearing his breath catch as her breasts rubbed against his chest. Wrapping her arms around him, she nuzzled into his neck, feeling his pulse jump under her lips and tongue. He tasted of salt sweat and acrid dust, and she set her teeth to him gently as she explored. He took her face in his hands, pulling her away, looking nearly as exasperated as aroused.

“Can’t keep ‘em on forever,” she said, and turned her head. She caught one of his fingers before he pulled away, biting down just hard enough to keep it from escaping. Slowly, she rolled her tongue against it, swirling it and sucking gently as it slipped out between her lips. She nearly laughed at his expression, mouth open and eyes half-closed, something dangerously close to a grin on his lips. Taking advantage of his daze, she caressed his abdomen, hard with muscle and tension. He snapped back as she undid his belt, but didn’t stop her. Suspicious, she watched him as she undid the button on his jeans, but he only leaned away, giving her more room to work. She got a foot on the ground, standing so she had a better angle to—

“Oh, you ffff—” he took her arms again, and she threw herself forward, trying to press him onto his back. He kept hold of her, keeping her from reaching down, from coming close. Reading him was always a challenge, but she was sure he was enjoying her frustration.

“Very fucking romantic,” she said, and settled herself lower, rubbing her hips against his. He murmured something low, and she ground against him harder, unable to feel through layers of denim. Her jeans just slid lower on her legs, giving her less contact and making her growl. She slid her legs off the edge of the bed, standing, and he let her arms go.

She started to pull them off, but he stopped her, reaching forward to take her hips. Softly, slowly, he kissed her right at the join of her ribs, wandering over muscle and bone and making her shiver. She reached down, and he was either too distracted or didn’t care, letting her fumble open his pants and reach for—

He dragged the duster down over her shoulders, pulling her arms away. She tried to shrug it back up. He stood, so close she had to step back, skin on skin and holding each other tight. “The hell to you want, then?” she said, nipping at his neck.

“Patience,” he said, pushing the jacket down, following it with strokes of those hands. She let it drop. He ran his fingers through her hair as he kissed her, deeply, almost leisurely. She leaned into it, letting him turn her, sliding back onto the bed. “Anticipation, courier,” he murmured, letting her go. She got up on her knees, slipping her pants down further. She turned at a rustle of fabric, something hitting the ground, but he caressed her neck, her back as he settled behind her, a bare leg on either side of hers. She sighed as he pulled her back, against his chest. “Have you never known something to be sweeter for waiting?” he said, voice slightly rough, and she felt his breath on her neck. She felt his erection against her ass, and she shifted discreetly, jeans dropping a little lower still. His breathing hitched at the sensation, arms around her, holding her still.

“I’ve _been_ going slowly,” she said, laying her head back on his shoulder. “Damn it, I’ve wanted you to fuck me since I heard your voice.”

He placed a kiss along her jaw, cheek-to-cheek, lazily feeling the planes of her throat and chest. “So long?”

“Nearly.” She stroked a hand up the back of his neck. “That’s a long time to think of everything you could do to me. The things I’d do to you,” she said, twining her fingers into his braids

He leaned back into the touch, letting out a groan so low she could feel it. She trembled at the sound. “I…” he had to pull away before he could speak, putting his lips near her ear. “Not alone in that,” he said, low, and she shut her eyes to listen. “Watched you fight. The way you move. Knew that _taking_ you would see me dead. Would have earned nothing else, fallen back on Legion thinking.” He felt along her front, tracing his fingers along her breasts before feeling them, teasing a nipple harder with a thumb. She sighed, hands above her head to stroke his neck, through his braids. “Nearly came to you begging,” he said, softly scornful. “Hungry for this, but thinking you felt nothing of the same.”

One hand wandered lower, taking advantage of the space between skin and fabric to touch her. “Now?” she whispered, barely able to hold herself up.

“Slowly,” he said, drawing out the word into a growl. He ran a hand up the inside of her thigh. “Long time, spent waiting for you. Never thought it would come to this,” he said. His fingers stopped just shy of her core, and she muttered something dire. “So let it come slow, strong.” 

She tried to force his hand closer, but he caught it, turned it away. “Fuck if I ever,” she said, “do anything for you again.” She pushed herself up, trying to stand, only for him to pull her close again. “If this is how you pay it back.”

“Seem to be enjoying it,” he said. He stroked her once, firmly through her thin, soaked panties. She cried out, surprised, eager for more. Instead, he felt just shy of it, following the lines of her body between her legs, the electric sensation making her squirm. He was breathing hard against her back, and she heard it in his voice, lips brushing her neck. “No rush, courier. Just this. Just us.”

“Either shut up or do something better with your mouth,” she said. She reached to stroke his face, inviting him to try. He placed a kiss on the center of her palm, making her sigh. “Next time we do this, I’m just gonna tie you down and ride you raw.” His hands paused from caress every inch of her skin. She smirked, and bit her tongue a little at the mental image of him writhing helpless under her. “See how patient you are then.”

She could feel his cock against her, and used his distraction to quickly reach back and brush the length of him. He jerked against her and moaned, biting it back. “Do it,” she whispered. “Goddamn it, just fuck me now and we can go slow later.” She closed her eyes to feel, coarse hair, soft skin over a solid—

His free hand closed on her wrist, hard enough to hurt. He said something quick and savage against the back of her neck, and she wasn’t even sure what language it was. She tried to push herself up, so she could finally get rid of her clothes, but he shifted to hold her tighter, both arms trapped against her own body. There was pain where he held her, pleasure as he slid his fingers into her slit, gentle, teasing. He explored her, deliberate, hunting for the spots that made her quiver and moan, murmuring wordlessly against her neck when she did. “Ohh…goddamn it, just… fuck you,” she said, panting, the heat between her legs sweet and unbearable. Her hips rolled, back arching. “Oh, unfair—God!—need you, oh, fuck, _fuck_ —”

He had loosened his grip, letting her move, and she heaved against him, breaking free. She stumbled a moment, turning back to see him still sitting there, and let out a breathless laugh at his expression. She nearly tore off the rest of her clothes as he moved to stand, and she lunged, slamming him flat on the bed. He didn’t fight, reaching up to caress her. “You are—”

She cut him off, teeth scraping on his as she thrust her tongue between his lips. She reached down to pull him into her, rougher than she intended, making him grunt and pull away from her mouth. “You know,” she said, almost trembling as she settled closer, just letting the tip of him touch her body. She licked her lips, watching his chest rise and fall like he’d been running, all scars and muscle and hers. “If you want to go so fucking slow,” she said, rubbing her hand up his shaft and making him growl, “tying you down’s a good option. Leave you here to think about it.”

He hesitated as he stroked her legs on either side of him, suspicious. She smirked, shrugged, and moved as if to leave. He pulled her back down, and she pried at his hands. “See you try, courier,” he said, taking her waist when she got her legs loose, not letting her stand. “You want this,” he said, in the voice that made her want to melt. “How long have you denied yourself?” He tried to draw her down, and she resisted, forcing him to sit up. The growing irritation on his face just made her grin more. “Yet,” he said, as she pushed away, hands on his chest, his fingers digging into her, “you make this as difficult—” he picked her up and nearly threw her on her back, “—as possible.”

She rolled free before he could pin her down. He grabbed for her, annoyed, and she caught his hand, twisting his arm as she pressed herself against his back. “Got a gift for it,” she said, nipping at the back of his neck, rubbing her body against his. She reached around to stroke him, gripping hard enough to make him hiss, holding her wrist hard. She twisted his other arm further, and he let up, slowing her movements, letting her circle the head of his cock with her fingers, guiding her touch. She could feel him breathing against her front, low and ragged, and she pushed herself harder against his back, kneeling behind him, still kissing and tasting along his shoulders and neck. He loosened his grip on her wrist, giving her a chance wrap her hand around him, thick and hard. She let go of his arm, using both hands one after the other, making him jerk into them and groan. Reaching back, he stroked her thigh, her ass, and—

“Son of a—” He pushed her off balance, twisting to trap her under him, laying across her middle and driving the air out of her. He lifted up to pull himself over her, and she kicked his knee out from under him, slipping away as he tried to catch his balance. His arm wrapped around her waist, and she laughed, still breathless. “Who’s impatient now?”

“Difficult woman,” he said, but she could feel the laugh in it as he kissed her back. He tried to pull her down, under him, but she got a knee on the bed and wormed free, skin slick with sweat, struggling as he tried to take hold again. She managed to wrap a leg over him, winding up on top, chest to chest, biting at his mouth and teasing with her tongue.

He held tight to her, his other hand reaching down to stroke between her legs, and she moaned against him, eager. She tried to slide lower into the touch, grinding her hips to rub against his erection. He caressed her still, eyes shut as he made her whisper and whimper, lips on hers. The sound turned to a yelp as he pushed a finger into her, rough and fast and making her jump. He rolled before she could gather herself, pulling himself on top of her, cradling her across one arm.

“Cheap shot,” she said, biting at his lip. He pulled away and she dug her nails into his back, letting go slightly when he felt her again, gently this time. She spread her legs wider, almost begging, working her fingers into his hair, drunk on the hunger on his face. He eased himself in, slipping smoothly into her soaking wet cunt. She moaned as he filled her, agonizingly slow, fingers digging into her hip to keep her from rising up and taking him in. She wrapped her legs around him, trying to force him deeper, faster. “Come _on._ ” Her teeth found his neck, his shoulders, frustration and need driving her past any concern for gentleness. He withdrew, thrusting into her again, slowly, slowly, each breath a long, low rumble of pleasure.

She bit down hard on his neck. “ _Difficult_.” He let go of her hip to yank her away by her hair, baring her throat. “Wicked woman,” he murmured, “fierce, _mine_ …” He buried his face against her vulnerable neck, words trailing off into a growl that made her quiver.

Free, she moved against him so he pushed deeper, rougher. “You’re _mine_ , you bastard—oh, god—” The friction made her whimper, her voice making him grasp her tighter, her eyes watering from the hand fisted in her hair. “You—” She had to stop and pant. “Crazy fuck, don’t stop, don’t—”

She clutched at his braids as she cried out, arching against him, feeling his thrusts quicken. Her hips bucked and rolled, visceral sensation making her body coil and curl, heat rushing through her. He moaned hungry and low, driving deep into her. She dug her fingers into his scalp as he thrust hard, making her gasp and clench around him, jerks that rocked through her entire body. She nearly screamed along with his breathless, urgent grunts, leaving her full and hot and sated as he fell against her.

She shuddered, small sounds escaping her as the rush faded, and he groaned as he pulled her closer, the feeling of him still inside her making her shiver. “Impatient,” he panted into her ear, a slight laugh in the word. He kissed her, lingering. “Should try again.”

“C’n do it your way next time,” she said, trying to catch her breath, “now that I ain’t gonna explode.” She lay there with her hands making trails in the sweat and dirt on his back as he held her, warm exhaustion flooding her. His arms were under her, taking his weight enough that she could breathe, content to just recover, skin-on-skin, nuzzling gently against the side of her face.

Adal closed her eyes, trying to slow her heart. The weight of him pressing her down grew uncomfortable, and she tried to shift against the pressure. The smell of them struck her, sweat and sex. She was hot and close and constricted against his body, trapped, she couldn’t _move_ …

No. No, she was safe. Safe enough. She opened her eyes, tied to focus. Could see the curve of his neck and shoulder, powerfully built; this man who had wanted to see her suffer, to murder her city for spite…

Adal gave him a shove, heart rate climbing again. “Off. You’re heavy.”

Ulysses slid off of her, slow and lazy, still holding her close at his side. She frowned at him, trying to pull free. He looked down at her, expression going from contentment to confusion to concern as she sat up. “Hurt you,” he said, quiet, letting her go.

“What? No.” She swung her feet off the bed, padding across the floor, clenching her fists to stop the shakes. “Outghta stay down here a while, make sure the marked men clear out. Anywhere I can clean up?”

Adal heard him stand behind her, but didn’t look back, leaning on the doorway. “Further down,” he said, subdued. She nodded, leaving. “Courier.”

She didn’t stop even though she could hear him follow, checking the doors as she went.

“Adal.”

She paused, holding the one to the showers half-open, and raised an eyebrow at him. “Look at that, you _do_ know my name.”

He stopped just out of reach, still naked, but not seeming to care. She crossed her arms over herself, focusing on his chin rather than meet his eyes. “Wronged you,” he said, low. “Not my intent. Tell me…” She shook her head and shrugged, turning away. “Adal. Please.”

The door slid open the rest of the way, but she went only a few steps in before she slowed, stopped. “Been a long time,” she said, and sighed. “Real long time, since I took a man. Didn’t expect…” She threw up her hands and let them fall. “Thought it mighta been long enough.” Adal looked back and shrugged again. “Doesn’t matter.”

Ulysses laid his hands on her waist, lightly, giving her the chance to break away. She grit her teeth and stood her ground. “Guessed that you’d been… hurt, before. Selfish of me to force you. Thoughtless.”

“Call that forcing? Huh, no. Would’ve been easier if you had.” She shivered, sweat drying and leaving her cold. He tried to put his arms around her, and she stepped away, putting a partition between them. He still had his hands out, waiting. “Just… go sleep, or something. I’ll get over it.”

She turned away, a hand on the shower knob. “Thought you wanted this,” he said, voice heavy with regret, footsteps soft on the metal floor.

“That’s not…” The words stuck, and she pressed her lips thin. She heard him stop. “Got used to not feeling. Just strangers, when I needed it, quick and rough. Convinced myself that’s what it was, never anything better.” She waited for him to say something, but the silence made her ears ring. “The hurt, and anything, anything _good_ , got all fucked up in each other, just… confused as hell. Got used to hating it. Hating that I wanted it.” She wiped at her face, trying to keep her voice steady. “And back there… goddamn it.”

“Not strangers,” he said, quiet. “Didn’t hurt.”

“Not ‘til I made you,” she said, looking over her shoulder. “Y’almost yanked my hair out.”

“You bit me,” he said, watching her levelly. “ _Several_ times.”

“Then don’t hold back on me.”

“Courier… Adal.” Ulysses sighed, and she tensed at the frustration in it. “Not some savage, only caring for my own pleasure. Hoped this could be—”

“Don’t say it,” she said, turning to face him. “Don’t. Makes it real, you say that word.”

“Prefer it isn’t?” he said, drawing back.

“No. Fuck, it’s just…” Adal rubbed her face with her hands before letting them drop. “Been a long time since I done this. Longer—hell of a lot longer—since I been in…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it, and shrugged helplessly. “Dangerous, letting folk close.”

“Dangerous?”

She couldn’t quite look at him. “Means you can lose them,” she said. “Gonna take me a while to figure it out.”

“Won’t call it that, then. Not yet,” he said. “Give you time.” He paused as he turned to leave. Quieter, “Came for me, courier. Risked your life for mine, done nothing to earn it. Patience is the least I owe you.”

She ducked her head. “Yeah.” She waved a hand at him. “Meant that about cleaning up, though, I smell like a sick brahmin. I’ll join you in a bit.” He left, and she turned the water on. She rested her hands on the wall, letting it run over her neck and shoulders. She’d feared him for quite a while, a ruthless, half-crazy man with no reason on earth to spare her.

The thought of Ulysses loving her was nearly as frightening.


End file.
